


A Soft Touch

by AgentStannerShipper



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Cock Rings, Collars, F/M, Ice Play, Leather Kink, Light Dom/sub, Pegging, Sensation Play, Shameless Smut, Temperature Play, Wax Play, gentle dom Tasha Yar, just extremely tender all around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24219802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Data is capable of many trains of thought at once. Tasha helps him shut some of them down and just feel.
Relationships: Data/Tasha Yar
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	A Soft Touch

**Author's Note:**

> And to think, all this happened because I had a mental image of Tasha wearing leather gloves and Data sucking on her fingers. I think it turned out pretty well.

It would never cease to amaze Tasha that this wasn’t really for her.

Or, maybe that was the wrong way to phrase it. To say it wasn’t for her implied that she wasn’t just as willing a participant, that it didn’t speak to her own desires, her own needs just as much as his. But it did. It satisfied her in ways she hadn’t even imagined possible. But, at the end of the day, she hadn’t been the one to suggest it. It wasn’t really for her.

She found him kneeling in her quarters, sitting back on his heels, his head bowed and his hands resting on his knees. She was familiar with the cue – she’d seen it dozens of times. And if she said no, he would accept it. She’d help him to his feet, not because he needed help, but because he liked the touch, and they’d talk. She’d ask if there was anything else she could do for him, anything that would work just as well. But Tasha didn’t want to say no.

Wordlessly, she crossed over to the table, running her fingers over the offerings laid out. Three pieces of leather: a collar and a pair of gloves. Tasha reached to the collar of her uniform, removing her lieutenant’s pips and setting them down with a soft but audible click before doing the same with her commbadge. She knew he could hear it, and she didn’t look to make sure. She picked up the gloves, slipping them on easily, the leather broken in, molding to her hands. She flexed her fingers, testing the give, but they moved perfectly, as always. She picked up the collar and crossed back to where Data knelt. With one gloved finger, she lifted his chin, forcing his yellow eyes to meet hers.

“What do you need?” she asked softly.

“To serve you, Mistress.” He hesitated. “Please.”

Tasha smiled. She’d been uncertain of the addressal at first. They’d discussed it, but she’d never liked ‘ma’am,’ and ‘sir’ was too close to work. ‘Master’ had felt wrong, and she had rejected any terminology that marked her as a relative. There were less common terms they’d debated, but they’d circled around to this one every time, and it no longer felt awkward to be addressed by it. It felt natural.

With care, she removed his three lieutenant commander pips and his commbadge. She set them aside, and Data bared his neck automatically as she fixed the collar around it, buckling it snuggly. Data didn’t need to breathe, so there was no need to worry about cutting off his airflow, but Tasha knew he preferred it tight but not constricting. He had called it a grounding weight once. She tugged on the buckle once and then released, instead cupping his face in both hands, sweeping one thumb over his lips. They parted at the touch.

“There’s too much going on up there, isn’t there, baby?” she murmured. She brushed a lock of his hair back, and Data tilted his head into the touch, nodding faintly. She smiled. “It’s alright. Just shut it down. I’ve got you.”

Data was capable of processing dozens of thoughts simultaneously, constantly thinking, constantly on and alert. It was a useful skill, one that had saved the _Enterprise_ more times than Tasha could count, and if the captain or the counselor or anyone else had asked, Data would have said that it meant nothing. It was simply how he was designed. He could process more faster, so it made sense to utilize the capacity. But Tasha knew better. She could practically see his body relax as he shut down the unnecessary lines of thought, until there was only one left, focused directly on her. His eyelids drooped, eyes half-focused.

“Better?” she asked.

Data nodded.

“Good.” He was beautiful like this, and Tasha couldn’t deny the thrill it gave her, knowing that in that moment, the only thing on his mind was her.

They’d been together more than a year when he’d first asked for this. Data could probably measure it down to the minute, but Tasha had never felt the need to check. He’d looked…nervous, she remembered, even if he wouldn’t call it that, and he’d presented her with PADDs, detailing the history and forms of the practice. All of which Tasha had swept aside to ask him, frankly, what he wanted from her. In their relationship, she’d gotten used to being the instigator. Data followed her lead almost without question, and he rarely asked for anything. To admit that he had…desires…she had seen the conflict in his expression as he’d explained.

“It’s okay to want things,” she’d told him. “You just have to ask.” And it hadn’t been a hardship in the slightest to give him this. She’d gone back and read the PADDs later, and they’d worked out details like addressal and safewords, hard limits and soft. But compared to some of the things Tasha had read about – some of the things she’d contemplated herself, quietly in the dark – what Data wanted was almost tame.

She traced his lips with her fingers, and then slipped two of them into his mouth. Data closed it, sucking gently at the leather, blinking placidly up at her. “Good boy,” she murmured. She stroked his hair. “You’re always so good for me.”

He hummed softly around the digits, muffled slightly through the gloves. Tasha withdrew her fingers slightly, just to watch him lean in to keep them in his mouth, and then pushed his head back. She stroked the back of her fingers down his cheek, wiping the dampness from the gloves off onto his face, and Data closed his eyes.

“Tell me your safeword, baby.”

“Reichenbach.”

“And you’ll use it if…?”

“If I become too overwhelmed or wish to halt the scene.”

“Good boy. Turn your sensory input up for me, okay?” Because that was the key. Data’s sensory network wasn’t like human senses. He didn’t have the same range of feedback, and he could control it in a way that humans couldn’t. But they’d found, through trial and error, that with most of his functions shut down and his sensitivity turned all the way up, it was more or less the same. She could see when he’d done it because his posture changed; his shoulders stiffened and his hands tightened against his knees, reacting to the additional input. She cupped his jaw, her grip firm, and watched him swallow hard, his breath catching in his throat.

“Stand up,” she commanded him, when he did so she added, “Strip, please. Computer, lights down twenty percent, temperature up four degrees.” The computer complied, and Tasha watched Data remove his uniform methodically, stripping it off and folding it. He held it out to her, and she took it, setting it aside with his rank insignia without taking her eyes off him as he clasped his hands behind his back and lowered his gaze to the floor. She’d asked, once, how this didn’t conflict with his modesty programming. Data’s response had been technical, explaining the way his sexuality and modesty programs interacted. But what it came down to was simple: they fed into each other. Data was embarrassed, or as near to it as he could be. But in this context, that wasn’t a bad thing. The lower lighting helped, he’d said. Made it enjoyable, instead of simply bearable.

She circled him, slowly, taking her time to drink in every exposed inch of his body. He was exquisitely made, with defined legs and a softer torso, broad shoulders and delicately sculpted arms. It was a shame, really, that he kept so much of it covered up.

When she completed the circle she stepped in, close to him, and cupped his cock gently in one hand, pulling back the foreskin and stroking her thumb over the head to let him feel every groove in the leather. His cock twitched, already firm in her grip but hardening further at the touch. Data shuddered faintly as she traced the vein along the underside, and she smiled, swiping away the precum beading at the tip.

“Do you need the cuffs tonight?” she asked.

“No, Mistress.”

“You think you can stay still without them?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Tasha licked his precum from her thumb, the taste mingling with the leather, and Data tracked the motion, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. She looked up at him coyly. “Should we put on the cock ring?”

He hesitated, and then nodded. “Yes, please.”

It wasn’t that they needed it, strictly speaking. Data had a program for that control. But when he shut it down…

Tasha crooked a finger, beckoning him to follow her into the bedroom. From a drawer she removed the cock ring they’d chosen together, black leather with a band of yellow all the way around. It was almost…cute, she thought as she fixed it around Data’s cock, making sure it was snug. The colors suited him. She stroked her fingers over his testicles before she withdrew, and Data bit back a low sound of pleasure.

“I’d like you on the bed,” she murmured. “On your stomach, please.”

He complied, and Tasha ran one hand over the expanse of his back, down over the swell of his cheeks and up again. She removed a second item from the drawer, and gently guided his head to the side to look at her, dangling the piece of fabric in front of him. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good.” She tied the blindfold with care, making sure it was secure over his eyes, the knot firm against the back of his head. She picked up one last item from the drawer – a box – and set it on the bed, letting him hear the slide and click of the drawer as she shut it again. “You’re so pretty like this,” she murmured, tracing down the curve of his spine. Her fingers lingered at the small of his back, where his ‘off switch’ was located. She felt powerful. In control.

Well. That was the idea.

“All you have to do is feel,” Tasha told him. “No thinking. No analyzing. All I want you to do is lay there, and feel what I give you. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good boy.”

She let him lay there a moment, savoring the quiet. It stretched between them, a tangible thing as she pet his back. She couldn’t feel his skin through the leather, but watching the muscles bunch when she finally removed the touch was worth it. She bent low, so her breath tickled his ear when she murmured, “I’ll be right back.”

She kept an eye on him as she crossed to the replicator, and while she didn’t stomp her feet, she made sure the taps of her footsteps were audible. He would be able to judge the distance by hearing them, and he’d know she hadn’t gone far. The replicator provided her with the three things she needed, retrieved via the keypad rather than aloud. She set them down when she returned to the bed, and lifted the lid from the box. Still standing, she pulled a lighter from the box, and with a click, she lit the candle she’d retrieved, letting it burn for a minute before she applied the first drop to her own wrist. She couldn’t burn him like this, even if she wanted to. But that didn’t stop her from being careful.

She kept her movements slow, and started with the candle high, so the wax wouldn’t be quite so hot when it touched him. Data sucked in a sharp breath when the first drop of wax hit his shoulder, and Tasha moved the candle away again until he relaxed, before starting a pattern of droplets, arcing from his shoulder down his spine. Each one made Data twitch before he forced himself to still, his breath becoming shallower, soft keens building up in the back of his throat.

“It’s such a shame you can’t see this,” Tasha whispered. She moved the candle a little closer to his skin, so he’d feel more of the heat as she drew a stronger line of wax. It made him whimper beautifully, his hips twitching against the mattress. “This is a Berellian candle. I’ve always thought the Berellians were amazing artists. The wax changes colors as it melts.” She dripped another arc, this time along the opposite shoulder. “Each stroke a different color…I think I’ll leave it on you until after, so you can see how pretty you look in a rainbow.”

Data whined softly, and Tasha shushed him, lowering the candle further and watching a few beads of wax roll across his skin before finally cooling. “I can’t paint quite as well as you,” she murmured, teasing, “but I think we’re doing alright.”

As the candle burned down, Tasha could feel the heat of it building, even through the gloves. It was intoxicating to watch, Data fighting so hard to keep still as she drew crisscrossing patterns over his skin, down to the dimples of his ass and back up again. He had to be achingly hard, his hips rutting into the mattress in little aborted thrusts, and she couldn’t bring herself to still him.

Finally, she blew out the candle, setting it inside the box’s upturned lid and taking a seat on the bed. She trailed a finger over Data’s shoulder, and Data sucked in a breath between his teeth when she traced over a line of the wax, cooling but still tender against the skin. “Check in,” she told him quietly.

“Green, Mistress.”

She laughed. “Yeah, you are. Green—” she laid a kiss on his shoulder “—and purple—” to the top of his spine “—and orange—” at the small of his back “—and gold.” And a dozen other colors besides. “Does it feel good?” she asked.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“If I turned you over, would I find you hard for me?”

Data swallowed. “Yes, Mistress.”

Tasha smiled. She picked up the second object, a bowl, and adjusted her position on the bed, letting him feel the dip of the mattress without touching him. “You’re being so good for me,” she said. “Are you ready for some more?”

He nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

“My perfect boy.” Tasha reached into the bowl, stirring it lightly. The gloves insulated her against the damp cold, but it still made the ice cubes clink against each other, and she watched Data react to the sound, his fingers clenching and then releasing. The ice had melted a bit in the interim, and Tasha let it dampen the leather fingertips before painting the cool liquid down Data’s neck. His head twitched to the side, and Tasha traced up under his ear and then down again, across the nape of his neck. “There’s so much to feel, isn’t there?” she murmured, without expecting a response. “Pure sensation.” She fished out an ice cube, rolling it between her index finger and thumb. Then she pressed it, gently, to Data’s skin.

He let out a soft gasp, and Tasha grinned. She traced the ice down, weaving between the lines she’d made with the wax, the melting water catching in the grooves and running all on its own, pulled down by gravity across his skin. She painted every line, until Data’s back glistened, arching into her touch ever so slightly. She stroked one cube over his ass, drawing circles and lines, sliding it down into the juncture where his ass met his thigh, pressing into the crease. It made his leg jump, and she pinned it down again with a firm hand. “No moving,” she chastised.

Data bowed his head against the mattress, contrite, and she soothed it with a kiss to his cheek. She slid down the bed, straddling his legs, lowering enough of her weight onto them to keep him still. She fished another ice cube from the bowl, a smaller one, and sucked it into her mouth, letting it melt on her tongue. She leaned forward, licking a stripe up the small of Data’s back, right over where his off switch was hidden. Data groaned, and Tasha did it again, delighted at the response. She was almost out of ice cubes, but that was alright. She could see how tightly Data was wound up, could hear the needy sounds spilling from his lips into the pillows as she stroked the last piece of ice over the swell of his ass. When it was gone, she set the bowl aside too.

“How are we doing, baby?” she asked, kneading gently at one of his thighs. “You still with me?”

Data’s affirmative response was so soft she almost missed it, and a wave of affection washed over her. She stroked lightly over his side. “Do you want to stop now? Or do you want to keep going?”

It took Data a minute to process the options – Tasha counted over fifteen seconds with glee. “Keep going,” he said finally. “Please.”

“Please what, baby?”

“Please, Mistress.”

“That’s right.” Tasha patted him gently. “Good boy.” She slid a little farther down his legs, giving herself a better vantage point, and reached finally for the third replicated item. She popped the cap and, still wearing the gloves, slicked her fingers.

Data whimpered when she parted his cheeks, spreading the lubricant across his hole. There were a million things Tasha loved about Data’s body, but this was high on the list. The pucker was a darker version of the white-gold of Data’s skin, and it twitched when she toyed with it, circling her fingers around the rim. She dipped just the tip of one finger into it, and bit back a smile when Data tried to press it deeper, canting his hips back with what little leverage he had. She placed a hand on his waist, a firm reminder to stay, and he stilled again, and Tasha rewarded him by pressing one slick finger in to the second knuckle, twisting it until she found the little bundle of sensors that made him cry out when she pressed firmly down.

She backed off in favor of pumping the digit in and out, then adding a second one after a minute. There was no biological need. Like everything else, Data could control this part of his body. But she liked feeling this, feeling him relax naturally around her as she probed in more deeply, stretching him out, rubbing as much of his inner walls as she could reach, just to see the way it made him squirm.

She withdrew her fingers to add more lube, pressing it in and watching his passage grow wetter, opening easily to admit her. “So pretty,” she cooed. “Such a good boy.” She twisted her fingers again, scissoring them apart. “I want to fuck you, baby. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Mistress. Please.”

He let out a soft cry when she pulled her fingers out, and she shushed him gently, finally shedding her uniform and undergarments – but leaving the gloves – in favor of slipping into a harness that she’d pulled from the box, settling the leather straps around her legs and waist. From the box, she also pulled the last two items she’d need.

“Pick a hand, baby.”

She watched Data’s brow furrow slightly, and bit her lip. It was adorable, watching him work through a problem without any input. Finally, hesitantly, he said, “Left, Mistress.”

“Good choice,” she praised. Truthfully, either would have been good, but Tasha had to admit to a certain level of satisfaction as she set one of the dildos back in the box. It was longer, thicker, a sleek and shiny black with realistic veins running along it. The one Data had chosen – a little smaller and blue, patterned with golden flowers – looked rather cutesy by comparison, but it did have one major advantage.

She latched the controller onto the strap over her hip, and then hooked the toy into the front of the harness. Her breath hitched, and she moaned softly as the end of it pressed between her folds, resting solidly against her clit. She resisted the urge to grind against it. Taking Data apart slowly, methodically, had aroused her, her cunt hot and slick and pulsing eagerly at the sudden, meager attention the toy brought, but Data had been so good for her, so patient.

“Hands and knees, baby,” she instructed. Data had gone still at the sound of pleasure she’d made, but at the words he scrambled to obey, presenting himself for her. She lined herself up, letting him feel the head of the toy running along his crack, pressing it firmly against the skin. He shuddered, a broken sound falling from his lips, and Tasha reached forward with her free hand to hook two fingers in the back of his collar, pulling him upright, increasing the pressure around his neck.

He keened when she pushed in, and Tasha bit back her own sound of pleasure as the motion ground the toy against her, her body clenching down instinctively. She slid in slowly, to the hilt, watching with hungry eyes as Data’s body accepted the length, opening up around her until there was no more to take. She swiveled her hips once, gently, and groaned in appreciation. Her grip tightened on Data’s collar, leather on leather, and she listened to his breath hitch and stop for a few beautiful seconds before releasing him.

Over his shoulder, she had a perfect view of his cock, standing stiff and dark ochre at the tip, visibly pulsing. She trailed her hand down to it, tracing around the cock ring, feeling the tension in the material, before wrapping her gloved fingers firmly around it. Data cried out, his head falling back, and Tasha nipped gently at his ear.

“Too much?” she murmured.

His mouth opened, and then shut, and he shook his head desperately. Tasha grinned and rewarded him with a thrust of her hips, driving him into her fist, and Data jerked, as if trying to fuck back against her cock and forward into her hand at the same time. Tasha set a brisk pace, angling herself to stab at Data’s prostate on every thrust, her laughs breaking off into moans as it stimulated her clit, rubbing deliciously against her. Data panted, half-formed sounds of pleasure spilling from his lips at the onslaught of sensation, and Tasha fumbled back, activating the controller against her hip.

They both cried out, voices mingling together as the toy vibrated to life, buzzing viciously. Tasha was close, she could feel it, her body tight and primed, aching with need. Data sobbed, and when Tasha slipped her fingers past his lips again he latched on, sucking hard on the leather. The veins in his cock throbbed, and Tasha squeezed him harder, pumping the length in counterpoint with her punishing thrusts.

“Do you want to come, baby?” she panted in his ear, screwing her hips as she pounded into her harder, chasing her own orgasm as much as his. “You want to, don’t you? You’re so tense it must ache. You need release so bad it hurts.”

Data moaned around her fingers, hardly able to nod but making the effort anyway, and Tasha undid the clasp of the cock ring and watched Data cry out around the digits in his mouth as his cock jerked, spilling artificial semen across her gloves, his stomach, and the bed. He slumped forward, and Tasha let him, slowing her thrusts as he shivered through the aftershocks. She turned the vibrations down, enough to feel but not overwhelm, groaning as she rutted to completion, pleasure sparking throughout her body as she came.

She shut the toy off, panting hard, and held herself for a moment, her weight heavy against Data’s back. His cheek was pressed into the mattress, his body still, and Tasha slipped her fingers out of his mouth and pulled her other hand away from his cock, propping herself up on one arm as she carefully withdrew, undoing the harness and discarding the toy. She peeled the gloves off one finger at a time and set them aside too. They were damp with water and saliva and cum, and like the dildo she’d have to clean them before she put them away, but that wasn’t her most pressing concern.

Gently, she slid a finger under the edge of Data’s collar, hooking it and holding there. “Data? How are we doing, baby?”

He didn’t answer at once. “I am…functioning.”

She laughed. “That’s good.” She turned him over onto his back, sitting beside him as she undid the blindfold, pulling it from his eyes. They were closed, and gradually he blinked them open, unfixed at first and then focusing, looking up at her. Tasha stroked a hand over his stomach. “Was that what you wanted?”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

He sat up, and Tasha helped him unbuckle the collar, removing it from his throat. She set it aside, her eyes tracing over his back. She reached out, stroking careful fingers over the lines of wax. Data twitched, and looked over his shoulder.

“You were correct,” he said. “It is aesthetically pleasing.”

Tasha fought her smile. “I’m glad you think so.”

She scratched at it with her nail, and Data shuddered as a piece came away. He stilled her hand. “Perhaps…perhaps it would be wise to wait a few minutes before removing it. My sensory inputs are still somewhat over-stimulated.”

“Whatever you need.” Tasha removed the touch, instead reaching up to stroke her fingers through Data’s hair. Data leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed. Tasha watched him, studying his expression. It was placid, but by no means was it neutral. He looked content.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked him softly.

He answered without opening his eyes. “I am thinking about several things. However, at this moment, they all have to do with you.”

Data might not have meant it to be sweet, but a wave of affection washed over Tasha anyway. She pressed a kiss to his hairline and murmured, “The feeling is mutual.”


End file.
